SIGNS OF THE TIMES?

Brother Tom and Sister-in-law Carol (not to be confused with Brother Dan & Sister Ann) sent along an interesting E-mail today

It reveals a sign in a business window in St. Louis , Mo.:

"WE WOULD RATHER DO BUSINESS WITH 1000 AL QAIDA TERRORISTS THAN WITH ONE SINGLE AMERICAN SOLDIER!"

Got your attention, right? Well, it seems it's a little like the brain teasers contained in a blog I
sent out a few days ago - suggesting a need to step out of the box. One described a basket containing 6 eggs and asked why if there were six eggs and six people each took one was there still one remaining in the basket?

The answer was that the last individual took the basket which still contained his egg.

Similarly, after reading the St. Louis sign you may well have asked " What kind of business would dare post such a sign?"

The answer is: A Funeral Home - proving not only that there is no truth to the conclusion morticians lack a sense of humor. It also begged us to look behind the curtain to see what is really going on - perhaps even going so far as examining what we are being told in the media.

Here's one current example. The USA Today editorial staff have been beating us to death with their conclusion that the target for both political parties who are allegedly desirous of balancing the budget is that of entitlements. They specifically list Medicare, Medicaid, and Social Security.

When you are told repeatedly that these three programs take up 59% of the budget - even those of us who benefit from all or some of these programs have to cringe a little. That is before we
hasten to defend these programs, claim it's one more attempt by the wealthy to steal from the low to middle class beneficiaries.

This is not entirely unlike those who want to end our oil dependence but refuse to allow the drilling for oil close to our shores or for wind-farms to be created in the vicinity of our local landscapes.

We are also satisfied to join the ranks of those who decry the burgeoning prison population and accompanying cost, but would be horified to have half-way houses located anywhere close to our residence or workplace.

The inclusion of Social Security as one of the entitlements that needed to be adjusted according to the media sort of bothered me. But, perhaps not for the reasons you might imagine, seeing as how I'm a retiree drawing from this source.

I used my computer shortcut key and instead of researching the subject inquired of friend Harry
who is more knowledgable than I in these matters, "Wasn't there something that Congress did that ultimately reduced the availability of sufficient funds in our time of need?"Harry (heppie2335.blogspot.com) made reference to converting S.S funds into government securities.
(see Harrys read on the subject of Unions in his most recent blog)

Well, Tuesday when again USA Today came out with another hammering editorial on the subject of entitlement excesses an opposing reply was filed by Jacob Lew, director of the White House's Office of Management and Budget.

What struck me with their editorial is that it finally acknowledge Congress's contribution to the problem: "In reality the (S.S..) trust fund is no more than a collection of IOU's. The money went out the door as soon as it was collected to pay for roads and bridges and aircraft carriers and food inspection and everything else the government does."

So, it's not really the fault of all the baby boomers who paid into it and now want to withdraw funds?

I seem to recall recently that a tremendous amount of money set aside for the states to "fix the economy." hasn't been spent. Would it be too much to ask the Federal Government to recoup that money and deposit it into Social Security before they complete their final tally of the amount of the problem.?

Lew's contention was two-fold. He appeared to be saying that the alleged underfunding of the Social Security obligation at 5.4 trillion dollars was not something over which we should panic
and also told us SS benefits were entirely self-financing.

Today, Friday, various letters with their own views appeared in the paper.

The first referenced is from Robert Cline of San Antonio suggesting that Lew's apparent lack of concern typified there was a clear demonstration of Washington's indifference.

Another letter was penned by a fellow Floridian, Neal Horner of Boca Raton. who wrote:

"The perspective that Social Security is contributing to the debt uses phony accounting practices that would make Bernie Madoff blush.The Social Security program is a bond-holding creditor, just like any other creditor that has lent the government money. It should not be expected to forgo the ability to cash in his bonds."

Another writer W.Lee Hammond, president of AARP seems to agree with Horner and writes,"USA's editorial mistakenly looks at Social Security through the prism of defecit reduction, fans the flames of "a program in crisis"and ignores the legal obligations of the Social Security trust funds." (Pleases note this is one lobbyist I don't seem to be attacking in my blogs.)

Hammond goes on to say "The reality is that Social Security is not in crisis, the combination of payroll tax revenue and interest earned by the Social Security trust funds will more than cover the difference between money going into the system and benefit payments going out this year.
He cements his argument by stating,: The Congressional Budget Office confirms that Social Security can pay full benefits for over 25 years , and even with no change or adjustment to the program could pay out 75% of benefits for the remainder of the century."

The final letter will address here is from Bill & Ann Laurie Moore, from Tuscon. In case you wonder why I didn't simply say Mr. & Mrs. Moore is that I simply can't conclude that is a fact. They may be daughter and son - father and daughter, cousins, etc.

That is the point of this diatribe. We are too quick with our assumptions and too slow to consider alternative answers.

Anyway, the Moores letter ( in addition to other points) suggests Lew was somewhat less than generous with his explanation when he wrote, 'When more taxes are collected than are needed . . . funds are converted to Treasury bonds - - -backed with the full faith and and credit of the U.S. Government.'

The Moores would rather that Jacob Lew clarified that "converted' meant that the excess is being spent by Congress and replaced with potentially useless bonds. (the point touched on by Harry & me in our E-mail exchange.)

Lew also said that (his) bonds are held in reserve for when the money collected is not enough to pay the revenue due. The Moores ask where the money would come from to convert the bonds into cash.

Their final comment is one that hits home, "We would request that members of Congress act in the best interests of their constituents instead of their own and stop the practice of 'borrowing' (ed.)" from the Social Security trust fund for other uses - or stop calling it a 'trust'
fund."

Let's assume you are a kid and work your butt off by taking on any spare job you can find for 5 years in order to go to college. You also understand you can not touch the monies earned until that occasion arises. When you go to draw out the first semester's tuition you discover that Mom & Dad used that money to go to Vegas - and left it there.

Do you feel cheated?

Maybe it's just a "sign of the times."

THE BEATNIK WHO WASN'T

Years ago, in a company conference skit during the 60's, I portrayed a beatnik with a scraggy beard carrying a sign warning all mankind that "The End Of The World" was near.

I did not share the beatniks views then - nor do I now.

What follows is in the form of a caveat to anyone who may still view this blog occasionally. Please be forewarned.

A cynic or incredibly naive person may not be an accurate description of your blogger. However, if one believed, after reading many of my blogs like one I just completed; that conclusion could easily be understood.

It is my hope that by your reading those blogs on subjects which may currently be obscure, even if picked up in the national media shortly thereafter, you may be encouraged to be among the first to say, "AHHHHH!", as the light bulb goes on. Information is power.

My goal is also to pique your curiosity and intellect as well as my own.

No attempt is made to defend the blogs as professional writing, good grammar, even the achievement of occasional punctuation success, or for that matter having appropriate brevity. (And the choir said, AMEN!)

My blogs are solely my thoughts and observations. You may or may not agree. Either way you've made my day.

I own "dem" thoughts, have always had them, but lack the forum size and means to communicate them to folks in a way often made available to me back in the last few years of my "working days."

As most people are quite busy and/or have more viable and/or more pressing interests I readily understand that I "ain't reaching the masses." But, that's okay.

What IS happening is me keeping myself mentally awake - an attempt to avoid an illness that strikes all too many of us seniors - and was covered quite deeply by the media on the anniversary of President Reagens birth.

So, you occasional readers are not only my family and friends, but possibly volunteer hospice workers for "Old Bare."

Last night I even promoted the blogs to my skeptical wife as a personal journal; a recognition that few individuals other than Justin* Bieber fans, still keep diaries. And, they most likely have forsaken that confessional tool for Twitter, Facebook, and My Space.

My blogs will often go to what is intended to be the injection of humor in my written musings. Part of that is from my fascination with contrast and irony; skills I acquired from my parents.

Besides, we all know that people who hold and express only dour and critical observations are seldom the hit of the party. While that's not my aim, one would still like to think you wouldn't cross the street when I come into view.

So, there you have it. It's a confession that pops into my mind everytime I wonder if I may be losing it. It may occasionally be a concern that you may conclude sanity is rapidly running out of my doorway. Then again, you may be right. Who knows?

What IS my constant concern is that we may be forgetting the valuable morality lessons we learnedwhen we were young and therefore; will not speak up when it's appropriate to do so.

I really do possess a pause button. My hope is to utilize that along with a focus that will keep me from sometimes pursuing an incredible "deviation from the mean" in my musings.

My brother, Tom was kind enough to describe my ramblings as my "passion" and "a voice" I have found. I agree. I've found some freedom too.

What I no longer have to deal with at my age are the sometimes unreasonable restrictions that most of us in business had to suffer in the 60's, 70's, & 80's. To succeed, you quickly (or in my case - not so quickly) learned when to hold - and when to fold, while clinging to your self-respect.

You may have already surmised that ignoring those restrictions or "suggestions" ("in "Theory Y" times") wasn't always easy for a quick tempered and easily confused Irishman.

As sacharine sounding as this may come across, I truly believed I had a responsibility to make a positive contribution to society. After all was said and done I had slipped more than once and no
doubt fell way short of my Mom's expectations for her oldest child.

A shrink might conclude maybe that was what was gnawing at me. It's way too late to worry.

God taught me a few lessons along the way, and despite my many stupid reactions, always took care of me. He also gave me a voice.

It's interesting that later in my work life, I was able to support and lead some unpopular causes that were important to me; often while standing behind the wizards curtain. It's not important what they were.

One of Dad's teachings that was literally pounded into my head was that you NEVER took credit for any accomplishments. You became the master of deflection. It served me well in the management style I adopted and later taught others.

So, I'm on my own now, still trying, while clinging to the belief there is no beatnik beating in this old guy's chest.

Thanks for your support and willingness to listen to my "soliloquy."

(*Given name correction courtesy of granddaughter Shannon Sullivan - with my thanks.)

"LEGAL - POLITICAL - OR BOTH?"

Don't know whether or not you are a fan of TV shows specializing in courtroom drama.

I am, but can't explain why. Maybe it's just that it makes me think - about logic - and the absence of same, as supposedly demonstrated by "the bad guy.".

Here's an example. Let's say a prosecuting attorney is questioning a woman who is accused of Murder.

He or she shuffles some papers at the table - strolls up to the stand - looks the accused in the eye - and after a few more seconds, asks her," So is it true that you were sleeping with the deceased's brother - his son - the butler and the gardener - and were arrested as a child for chopping off the necks of live chickens?"

The defense attorney immediately jumps up and challenges the prosecutors question. The judge sustains the objection and charges the jury as follows: "The jury will ignore the question, and it will be struck from the proceedings."

The jury - half with their mouths still open far enough to swallow whole a canary, two hummingbirds and possibly the chicken, stare at the female defendent with dismay.

So, what do you feel will be the impact as they meet to decide her fate? To what extent do you believe the carefully posed question will impact their final decision as to the innocence of the woman - or at least her chances to be found guilty due to what, if true, appears to be a rather active but questionable life style?

I don't have an answer here - just a supposition - that extends to other apparent wrongdoings in this country. Time and time again we read due to a hard working investigative reporter or a watchdog group of some repute, facts I find offensive but, which may be currently legal.

Their report may be about a member of Congress who, via his or her long tenure, heads up an important committee. The report states that this politician has received an unusally large campaign contribution from a business or lobbyist who regularly comes before them seeking a favorable decision by the committee.

The politican or a staff member will later comment that, "regardless of the favorable decision reached by the committee, it should be noted that at no time did the politician allow the large contribution to affect his or her judgment in the matter."(Unlike the jury - right?)

We have become somewhat enured to the situation just described and refer to it thusly: "Just politics as usual."

We appear to be willing to accept that politicians - like jury members- have the ability not to be persuaded by questionably shady individuals, like the prosecuting attorney above.

The focus of our trust and value system now shifts from politicians losing their battle with ethics - to the one thing we have been taught is an immutable truth.

That truth was inferred to us in our formidable years. It is that while politicians can be swayed by gifts, favors, etc that will not occur to the Highest Court In Our Land.

Local and state judges have made headlines for years. But, many of us have tended to give The Supreme Court a free pass.

Perhaps that's not true now when we suspect everyone, but, in years past many of us viewed our Supreme Court Decisions - based on precedential law - as being made at a higher level, and thus sacrosanct. That does not mean we always agreed with them, but perhaps, instead, just respected the collective wisdom and honesty of the court.

We were taught in school that there is a reason we have three branches of government: Executive, Legislative, and Judicial. But, the one entity who thru the years has garnered our strongest support is that of the High Court Judiciary.

We are not arguing this to be a necessarily correct assumption but, as a belief we sometimes need in order to retain our sanity in these days of convuluted logic.

The Supreme Court is known as the Court Of Last Resort. It applies it's majority ruling to the actions - or lack of same- by both the legislative and executive branches. When Congress passes some "other-worldly" legislation that the President goes along with -we look to the Supreme Court for unbiased justice. We are also blessed to be able to review the conclusions of the minority so we can better understand how reasonable minds can differ.

Again, that is not meant to suggest that we have necessarily always agreed with the decisions of "the highest court in the land." We have experienced decisions "back in the day" that protected slavery.

Even more recently we saw a Supreme Court decision that enabled a presidential candidate, George W. Bush, to become our nation's President.

The fact that seven of the nine judges on the Court were Republican appointees, and ruled in Bush's favor, appeared to many as a huge crack in our view that the Supreme Court Justices , as a whole, were unbiased and their decision in Citizens United was due to their respect and understanding of righteous precedent.

The subject of their decision was promulgated by the Democrat controlled Florida Supreme Court. This group sought to have their conclusion on questionable vote counting procedures decided by the High Court in the favor of Democratic candidate Al Gore.

Various election boards - mostly Democrat appointed - attempted to assist Al by making Carnac like predictions as to what the intent of the voter was, despite a lack of clarity from the chads.

This is admittedly an oversimplification. A more interesting and informative column on the subject was written by conservative columnist George Witt on 12/10/10 at StarTribune.com., Tthis was one of the resources we sought out before taking on the subject at hand.

Regardless of your political persuasion, and dislike for George, many of us were bothered by the circumstances he described as leading up to the final decision.

My sole hope for this country is that cooler and less politically motivated members of the judiciary and media can keep us (as our elders liked to say), "From going to Hell in a handbasket."

Now, we're not so sure. There is a reason why one of the two parties often mounts an incredible opposition, considerable controversy and some really stupid questions to a Supreme Court nominee, especially one recommended by the opposition party. They fear the selection of the perceived liberal or conservative nominee as will have a dastardly effect on future court decisions involving their party line.

Recent events have caused this naive blogger to see situations suggesting Legal and Political has crossed lines we never imagined. We had hoped this would never become a reality but; is not to suggest a head in the sand approach.

I recognize the increasing communication overload is just one reason for some unfounded media allegations to be aired - but, I still want to feel comfortable that I am usually receiving an honest account of an event or an individuals actions. I still want to believe Puck was accurate when the banner line under his image said, "All the news that's fit to print."

Please don't even start about Vietman coverage. Sadly, I bought into that one too.

Judge's Scalia and Thomas - often rumored to be connected at the hip - are under fire for
attending all expense paid events sponsored by conservative interest groups.

It appears this is nothing new, but it seems to be increasing - and it's a scary challenge to our collective naivete.
.
Recent Supreme Court selected Justice, Sonia Sotomayor, enjoyed a weeks vacation in Puerto Rico shortly before her nomination. The payer: The American Civil Liberties Union, an organization that has a 4th amendment case in front of the Supreme Court now.

They argue that their client, Abdullah al-Kidd, once held in custody as a material witness in a matter following 9/11, should be allowed to recover damages from then Attorney General John Ashcroft. Admittedly, there are many factors involved here. Should the Justice recuse herself?

The event Scalia and Thomas attended was hosted by corporate guru and huge political contributor, Charles Koch. The two justices are now under attack by the liberal interest group, Common Cause, for accepting free trips from the Federalist Society and for NOT recusing themselves from the 2010 Citizens United case that "paved the way for increased corporate and union donations."

This case is a subject near and dear to my heart, commented upon previously, and one that will be explored further in a future blog. An appropriate title of that blog might be, "The Gift That Keeps On Giving!"

Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg attended a summit in Montreal that billed it's meeting as "an intellectual platform to explore how the constructs of race, religion, gender, sexuality and class and nation create serious inequalities,conflicts and human suffering."

Fat chance those issues will ever come up before the Court.

Did the various trips made by the Justices impact on their votes? Probably not. They may have already had firm positions that shared the views of the folks entertaining them. But, we'll never find out. My question is "Why should we ever have to worry about it?"

There must be a way for the Justices to fall under the "Purer than Caesar's wife" dictate.

With all the greed, corruption, morality issues, etc. by members of Congress and business executives, coming to our attention, we desperately need to believe that the Supreme Court and it's Justices are fulfilling their responsibility as being arbiters of justice that will never be "unduly" influenced.

The Washington Post suggests several compromises to assure that which the Justices might
consider. The article is entitled "The Justices Junkets" (2/20/11).

Bottom line: We should easily be able to distinguish "Legal" from "Political" as it applies to our Supreme Court Justices - and we're not suggesting " brain washing" or "waterboarding".

If the Justices do not currently understand the important principle behind that need -do they now need to take safeguards to prevent us from reaching questionable conclusions?

FRUSTRATION

My reputation as a technophobe may follow me to the grave.

Despite that, I disconnected the old tower computer, and took the mouse, keyboard, and monitor into the dining room. The location is immediately outside Phyl's office where the router lurks.

One of the many theories postulated for the towers unwillingness to accept a router signal and go online was it's lack of proximity to the router. While faulty logic, it needed to be checked out.

The tower has two antennae connected to it so it can perform "wireless". I would have a better chance on a tightwire - going netless. I silently cursed AOL and anybody else whom I could think of to blame.

After a period of about 4 hours which included much reading and experimenting I tried a telephone connection to the computer. When my wife - the real worker ant - mentioned she could not get an outside line - I knew I was in deep doo doo - and finally shelved the whole project, preferring to go out to my office and review E-mail on the laptop.

One e-mail message encouraged me to go online to Facebook as ten or twelve people were allegedly trying to reach me.

My familiarity with Facebook is pretty much limited to looking at photos and saying, "Man, that's a good shot." This is particularly true when the photos are taken by Ethan and Jen, Phyl's oldest son and wife. Their subject matter is Phyl's biological grandson Liam; the youngest of the 10 grandchildren - of which 9 are connected somehow to my DNA.

Liam is a doll and the photos quite professional. Now, I've had the enjoyment of looking at Grandchildren photos and their facial expressions for some time - including that of the oldest who is 22.

I still have one of him when he was a litle tyke with his hat turned sideways and a plastic bat in his hand as he exited the house on Burlington. He had not yet mastered the art of speaking -a malady for which he has now found a remedy.

But, the photos Phyl's kids are sending via the Net depict the little guy - one year old - whose look of concentration when he's playing with something is incredible. This may be due to his unusually long attention span or, perhaps, an irritable bile that he is working on as he plays. Anyway, the look is precious.

My inability to reproduce his photos from Facebook - is not precious. I can't wait until Phyl retires and processes her own grandson photos. Her logic behind not becoming a member now is that she sits in her office all day with either her nose into the computer screen - the phone stuck to her ear - or a combination of both.

Facetime with Facebook is not an option at this time.

She is clearly much more technologically proficient than I - and despite my chosen outside reading assignment - the more patient of the two of us

My sole favorable Facebook memory is limited to that of our watching The Social Network - a great flick.

Needless to say, coupled with the computer tower and another battle with pollen, I'm not a happy camper. My pity party is alive and well - but, you won't find it on either Facebook or Twitter.

However, it was greatly exacerbated when, in attempting to catch up with 32 E-mails, I found this one from my sister-in-law.

1. There are six eggs in the basket. Six people each take one egg. How can it be that ghere is one left in the basket?

2. Acting on an anonymous phone call, the police raid a house to arrest a suspected murderer
They don't know what he looks like, but they know his name is John.Inside they find a
carpenter, a cab driver, a car mechanic and a fireman playing cards. Without even
asking his name they arrest the fireman How do they know they've got their man?

3. There was once a recluse who never left his home. The only time anyone ever visited was
when his food and supplies were delivered, but, they never came inside. Then, one stormy
winter night when an icy gale was blowing he had a nervous breakdown. He went upstairs,
turned off all the lights and went to bed. Next morning he had caused the death of
several hundred people. How?

4. Three of six glasses - the first three in a line - are filled with orange juice. The other three
are empty. By moving only one glass can you arrange them so the full and empty glasses
alternate?

There is no reason in this world why I should be the only one on a Monday who is suffering
from frustration.

REFLECTIONS ON THOSE EARLY YEARS

As a child during World War II, I enjoy pleasant memories that have sustained me as I grew older and maybe, more responsibile.

My first entreprenurial effort was that of knocking on doors. I sought a small fee in exchange for which I would use my five and ten store purchased stencils and a can of whitewash to paint their house numbers on the curb in front of their home.

Our street was steep. The house numbers were usually attached to the house and difficult to see. So a few neighbors shared a few hard earned sheckles with me, thereby encouraging my early work ethic.

Remember now, it was WWII, or soon after. Folks were not inundated with phone calls asking them to buy this or that competing product. No borough official or homeowners association would have to give their clearance in writing, after several committee meetings of course.

No one had to concern themselves as to whether or not my artwork would damage the image of this tiny picturesque Norman Rockwell-like community, Forest Hills Borough, located in Western Pennsylvania.

Even the town Burgess, Al Koch, would not have to offer a legal opinion.

It was just something kids did before taking on a real management challenge. That would be, of course, selling Kool Aid from a makeshift stand. Mine was constructed from discarded plywood, rotting two by fours, and bent 10 penny nails and was located on the front sidewalk facing our fading house number on the curb.

Selling Kool Aid was difficult due to the topography indicated by the name of our town. We lived on the steep side of the street and the stand leaned till we found a brick or two. We also had a real lack of viable pedestrian traffic to which I could market my product.

The Kool Aid business required a 5 cent investment for the packet of powder, two quarts of water, and a full cup of sugar (or so) borrowed from Moms sugar jar.

I think I charged a penny per drink and didn't even require a deposit for the jelly glasses.

People didn't have to drink booze or take drugs then. They got a sugar high from Barry's Kool Aid.

I suspect that as my profits increased so did our phone bill. This would be due to Mom calling the neighbors to encourage them to patronize my glorious stand. But, then again, the Kool Aid was a bargain.

Housing was cheap then too. You could get a second home for nothing down at Beswicks Electric appliance store on Ardmore Blvd. - after the Westinghouse refrigerators were unpacked.The return of the WW IIs vets provided even more empty refrigerator boxes.

Carolyn Beswick was thrilled to see eager kids haul the boxes located outback behind the store to go up in the woods behind the Atlantic Avenue school and build their shacks.

The shacks were anchored to a tree or anything solid and covered with broken branches and leaves gathered from nearby locust or crabapple trees, among several other species. .

Unfortunately, the quality of the construction work performed by us underaged finishers was not well thought out.

A good rain quickly caved in the cardboard roofs as well as the carefully selected foliage cover. The camaflouged ceilings and cardboard entrances, weakened from the rain, soon slid into the pool of water that gathered in our labor intensive basements.

We kids dug out the cellars by hand with the aid of some malleable sticks, flat rocks, a few sandbox shovels, dirty fingernails, and, if you were lucky, some easy-to-hide-in-your-shorts small tools from the rock garden box.

Smuggling a coal shovel out of the house was difficult back then; as all mothers had eyes in the back of their heads.

I should add, we also lost a large number of valuable hidden comic books in those shacks.

Summer's highlight - unless you were rich enough to go on a real vacation - was the Forest Hills Fireman's Fair. It was so popular that some of the vacationing residents planned their "holiday" around the dates of the fair.

The main route in town was Ardmore Boulevard a/k/a Route 30, and was the East to West route travelled by the visiting fire companies from neighboring communities as well as some as far away as the town of Grapeville; that always had the prettiest truck.

The favorite vantage point for most of us Sumner Ave kids was in front of Reiners Drug Store, at the intersection of Sumner Avenue and Ardmore Blvd. A few others preferred to watch from across the street by Kenmawr Ave and in front of Halderman Ford, for a little more comfort.

They sat on actual real chairs in front of the big sign in the show windowthat advertised new Fords one year for $1948; the same as the date of that year.

We preferred the drug store site on Route 30 West as the clowns would stop with their balloons. and horns. I admit most of us brave guys would take a step or two back when the clowns got too close.

The procession would then head on down Route 30, two blocks or so, past Lennox and , from our vantage point. It ended somwhere close to where the Fireman's games were set up by the borough building lots between Marion Avenue and Filmore Rd.

There we dug deep for our saved up allowances and small change from made-up chores. We played Chuck-a Luck, threw darts at balloons, bet on the horse races, and accepted any other challenges that usually blew all the saved up money in one night.

Some of us gravitated to the side of our moms who were sitting around card or picnic tables playing Bingo. Our plan was to see if we could encourage Mom to separate herself from any winnings that might come her way. The consolation prize fom Mom might be a nickel for a soda "pop". If you were lucky - maybe a Cho-Cho bar from a washtub sized container covered with dried ice.

My problem was that if Mom won a game she insisted I stay at her side as she deemed my presence to be a sign of good luck. My only hope was to fake a need for a pee break
.
Thank you God for allowing me to have a superstitous Irish Catholic mother!

It wasn't all fun. I remember the family work duties too.

As the oldest of three, they included tending the small victory garden in the corner of the back yard, helping with the eventual canning via the mason jars with the wax lids, hanging those confounded lace curtains on the two racks I set up in the back yard; with all the hundreds of pins that pierced my thumbs and fingers.

Other duties were in the winter carrying the coal in bushel baskets with wire handles that dug into your fingers and palms. You climbed up thirteen steep snow and ice covered concrete steps leading from the front sidewalk, where the coal company dumped it on the sidewalk and street,(forever covering up my carefully painted house number in the process).

Upon reaching your destination about 10 to 15 feet further up a sidewalk and another step, you dumped the baskets full of coal into the small metal window door allowing for the deposit of the coal into the coal cellar. Then you repeated the whole process while hoping Mom had not yet filled up the second basket.

My fulltime job after the war was as a backup watching to make sure my brothers, 4 years and seven and one-half years younger than me were where they were supposed to be. In later years it was sometimes tough for me to turn off that spigot.

But, as a kid I prayed for naptime - not mine - but theirs. That was guaranteed playtime for me.

All in all, those early years weren't so bad

WOLLEY SEGAP

Growing up in Pittsburgh there was a guy named Wolley Segap who encouraged all of us Pittsburghers to spend more time letting our fingers walk through the yellow pages.

Unfortunately, Wolley's probably long gone and I fear his beloved Yellow Pages are not far behind. I never even had the opportunity to ask him where he came up with such an unusual name. Always wondered if he was related to Nosmo King.

There is so much more to be learned via the computer search engines. It's quicker and keeps the mind active.

Not only do you get the addresses and phone numbers you might get a picture of the business as well the ones on either side. Besides, if you don't want to head out you can review the store inventory and order it online. Poor Wolley!

Another benefit is you don't have to knock over half a dozen bottles while trying to retrieve the Yellow Pages from the bottom shelf in the dining room cupboard. As I grow older I realize I make less use of each learning tool; probably all that leg bending to retrieve them.

Like friend Harry (heppie2335@blogspot.com) I find myself becoming more and curious about the world around me - both current and past. I leave the future up to those more intellectual
souls within my associates group.

A friend of ours sent a beautiful story about"the missing day" and it's connection between the Bible and the space program. I fear (but, did not share) that it seems both are losing favor in this country.

As with so many articles/emails we receive -and as often commented on by Harry - many are simply not true. It took me a while to catch on to this. I grew up in a different generation where we were taught lying and liars (was/were) the exception - and God help us if we attempted to
join their ranks.

It was my allowing myself to let my fingers walk through the web pages today that caused me to confirm the missing day story - while appealing - was made up.

The email spoke of a Harold Hill who was referenced as President of Curtis Engine Company in Baltimore, Maryland. My research discovered that there was indeed such a compaany - near Baltimore, and it once had as it's president, someone named Harold Hill.

That was a relief to me as the only other Harold Hill with whom I had any familiarity was sort of a scoundrel and the invention of composer, Meredith Wilson, author of The Music Man.

Investigating further by going to one of the many investigative sites out here on the web, "Truth or Fiction", it appears that any connection to scientific research and the Bible as to the lost day referred to in The Book of Joshua (10: 12-13)was apparently an invention of Mr. Hills' fertile imagination.

He lectured on the subject frequently but, when asked for a reference cite as to his findings, his responses became more and more infrequent, to the point where he stopped responding.

The conundrum I then faced was whether I should or should not share my research with our friend. My decision was to do it but - gently - a former skill that seems to have abandoned me in recent years.

It was only later, as my research continued into authors such as C.S. Lewis and G.K. Chesterton there was a regret in not recommending some of their works to her. They are folks who our Christian friend could have quoted proudly.

Once, long ago, in my more spiritual days, and while reading books from home for the association of the blind, Lewis's classic"The Screwtape Letters" appeared in my mailbox as my current assignment.

Often I attempted to liven up my reading by assigning different voices for the characters in the books. The series on Narnia by Tolken almost did me in.

Screwtape was a delight. My regret here was, due to my enthusiasm as I read his letters, I lost some of his sarcasm and may have even sounded apologetic. My fear is that I probably came off sounding like a voice better suited for his nephew, a young temptor, Wormwood, rather than the senior demon, Screwtape.

In my haste to get to the next letter, I guess I sorta "lost my way". It's possible I totally confused the reader as to Lewis and his clever message.

Therefore, you might say the measure of my success as a missionary is still very much up in the air.

Maybe, I should have just stuck with Wolley World.

THE ART OF LISTENING WELL

In my continuing effort to write a softer more gentle blog ("OK, I heard you. Who said, When?")

Let's start again. I am trying to read more glass half-full e-mails. What I have read from the various friends with whom I have E-mail exchanges is that a proper attitude is the responsibility of each of us.

Such was the case with a long parable I received about a guy who fell off a communications tower and still retained his normal cheerful attitude even as he was about to go into really serious surgery.

The "old" Barry immediately speculated that the large amount of drugs the guy had ingested was probably the source of his cheerfulness. Also, they may have caused him to fall from the tower and probably had not worn off yet. I soon realized the error of my ways and vowed to be less cynical. I was guilty of not listening well.

Listening well is a special talent. Various authors have told us that it is a trainable skill, as opposed to certain sexual proclivities one is born with - I assume.

I can think of various examples of folks with poor listening skills. Not me, of course.

There is my oft told story about the poor Irish guy who was having problems getting a girl. He was relating this to a friend at a dance held at Pittsburgh's Central Catholic High School.

His friend had girls coming out of . . . . well you know what I mean. His advice to his less successful Irish friend was to take time to pay compliments to the girls.

With that, the skinny acne scarred Irish guy walked across to the girls side of the room and asked a rather corpulent young lass if she would like to dance. She accepted and off they went to do their Fred & Ginger imitations.

Unfortunately, it was not long before the female partner hit the skinny Irish guy with her purse (you always took your purse with you on the dance floor ) and proceeded to knock him silly.

His friend came over to rescue "Silly Sully'' and asked, "What in the world did you say to her to get that strong of a reaction?"

Sully replied that it wasn't his fault and he did what his friend told him to do. "All I said was, you know, for a fat girl, you don't sweat that much!"

Clearly, old fatso was guilty of not "listening well". Otherwise, she would have recognized a well intended - if not well thought out - compliment.

Here's another example. Men are notoriously adverse to going to a doctor for almost any reason. A mysterious rash in an sacred area of the body may be one of the few exceptions.

There was this guy who had hearing problems but, didn't want to discuss them, choosing to carry around a battery pack with a mike and a couple of miniature Bose speakers instead.

Finally, he goes to the doctor who asks him,"Can you describe the symptoms to me?"

The guy replies: "Yes, Homer is a fat yellow lazy S.O.B. And, Marge is a skinny broad with big blue hair!"

Still one more person who is guilty of not "listening well."

But, today I may have found a poster boy for our cause: Listening Well.

There's this newly elected Senator from Ohio, Rob Portman, who ran on a promise of fiscal responsibility. He has even backed a constitutional amendment to balance the budget - a popular cause in this most recent election; per the voters.

Well, Rob recently came out in favor of the back-up engine for the F-35 fighter jet. At first blush, a callous critic might accuse Rob of simply not " listening well."

His opinion is in total disagreement with that of Defense Secretary Robert Gates who calls the backup engine totally unnecessary. Gates conclusion is consistent with a five year campaign by two Presidents - of opposing parties - to eliminate the alternate engine in an effort to help balance the budget.

The engine manufacturer is Rolls Royce. The thrust of the lobbying efforts to defeat the elimination of funds to support the engine funding is General Electric, the mega-company working with Rolls Royce to develop the engine.

GE realizes that the decision to abandon the engine would " knock them out of the $100 billion market for the F-35 engine." (USA Today 2/15/11)

Suitably, G.E.and it's subsidiaries ratcheted up their lobbying efforts this year to $39 million, a 50% increase over 2009.

One politician has 1000 residents employed by G.E. in his home state of Ohio and who work on the engine.

The previously mentioned politician, Republican Rob Portman took in more than $59,000 from G.E, and was the "largest financial recipient" of their lobbying largesse.

See, you don't want to judge people too quickly.

Actually, Rob fully deserves the honor of Official Poster Boy for "listening well."

Besides, "He plays well with others."

(Oh !@#$%! I did it again, didn't I?)

CHUCK TANNER - A REFLECTION

Just a personal remembrance of Charles Tanner.

I have always been a hero worshiper - even when my affection and/or admiration may have been misplaced. There was an Irish lad, a Pittsburgh product who was an amazing major league pitcher in the American League. Even though he played for the "wrong league' we were proud he was once one of us, and a hero to many.

He was also an excellent pool shot and fun to play against at Donahues, a favorite hangout for a lot of us "still not grown up" men.

Our hero displayed less coordination when my friends and I watched him unsuccessfully try to maneuver the dais at a Dapper Dan sports dinner in Pittsburgh; one winter night. A lot of the attendees were impressionable kids and we told them some tall tales.

On reflection, I guess many "heros" had our good nights and our not-so-good nights.

That apparently is not so for Chuck Tanner, a New Castle, Pa guy who passed away this past Friday after a long illness. He managed my Pirates to 711 victories - which at the rate they're going may take about ten or twelve more years to match - and possibly as many managers.

Chuck was consistent. He was an easy person to like and wore his mantle of responsibility well. I was lucky enough to attend my only World Series game in Pittsburgh - or for that matter anywhere else when Chuck was the manager.

While I'm sure I must have seen Chuck also at one of the sports banquets in Pittsburgh, it was not until last year in Bradenton that my brother Jim introduced us at McKechnie Field. I may be off a year, but it was last year that I remember Chuck most.

Jim had apparently had several conversations with Chuck, who currently served the Pirates as an advisor, cheerleader, and sports psychologist.

The comments by former Pirates in sports columns, as well as the newbees now playing, confirm he was still a true upbeat leader. He was also as personable as all get out to anyone he met.

Jim, as is his nature when it comes to the Pirates, had picked Chuck's brain with questions as to which of the new players he really liked, his thoughts as to the future of the team, and even snuck in a few questions regarding what Chuck's true role was with the management group.

At our meeting with Chuck, standing in front of Jim's box seats, my brother teased Chuck about something he had said to Jim that could have easily been construed by the Pirates management as TMI - and I don't mean the location of Harrisburg's nuclear reactor.

Chuck, with those wrinkled facial lines formed from so many years out in the sun as both coach and player, took my brother on. He accused Jim of making up the whole thing. However, at no point was I unaware of his appreciation for my brother's extensive baseball knowledge.

Now, I wasn't there when the original meeting took place so, therefore, I could not break into the conversation. Not sure I would have if I could.

By experience, as opposed to Sullivan loyalty, my money would have been on the premise that Chuck actually said to Jim what the latter claimed was true. I think Chuck's refusal to admit same was for a couple of reasons.

One, he would not want to be quoted as having said what Jim claimed.Secondly, from my viewpoint he was clearly enjoying himself at my brothers expense.

My gut tells me that from their prior conversations, the manager had once again applied skills he had honed over the years. The first was his ability to quickly size up another human being.

The second was his tremendous grasp of what he truly deemed to be important.

As I watched Coach Tanner, he apparently had picked up something about my own personality as the "older brother". He used his body language and body position to separate Jim and me by moving toward me as I leaned up against the stands - in respect for my arthritic knees

He did all of this as he continued with his denial of my brothers assertion.

Coach also employed an old salesman's trick of touching me periodically as he attempted to bring me into the conversation, while still practicing the old war strategy of "divide and conquer."

I didn't fall for it for a variety of reasons, I really had nothing to contribute, was not nearly the student of the game as these two baseball minds now somewhat entangled, and wasn't all that nuts about salesmen.

A final reason was that I was just having too much fun watching the exchange.

When the conversation was winding down and Jim was deferring to Chuck with the humility we learned growing up - but, still not backing down; someone came over and grabbed Chuck to talk to one more Tanner admirer.

Jim and I watched him walking away. Soon after, Jim commented to me - more than once, "I know what the man said to me and what he said now wasn't it." I agreed and smiled to myself. In their own way - both men were right.

And, if Jim had not taken the time to introduce me to Chuck Tanner, I would have been the only real loser.

At some point down the road, Jim gave me a Chuck Tanner bubblehead doll which I proudly display on my bookcases out on the lanaii.

I'm not sure how much it looks like Chuck but, from what I saw and later read after his death, Chuck was a man capable of displaying a thousand different looks - and obviously one of them was the product of a great sense of humor and an undying affection for true Pirate fans, like my brother.

Here was clearly a man worthy of my hero worship.

RAISING YOUR HOPES

There are a series of little pithy sayings on a raised display sign outside a local dentist's office. Quite often they lift your spirits. At the very least, they may get you to "pause for the cause".

Like us, whoever makes up the sayings realizes there is too much seriousness going on around us.

The most recent message has to do with encouraging you to raise your hopes for both the future and yourself. It says, "Go ahead...Get your hopes up."

Don't know about other motorists who view this sign but; we often smile upon encountering the messages. Sort of, "a humorous thought for the day."

Wife Phyl and I spent a portion of Saturday watching a movie that explored "getting your hopes up." We , really enjoyed it, talked about how we could relate to the plot. The title of the movie is, "It's Complicated."

We recommend it for anyone who, due to a variety of circumstances: graduations, the kid's weddings, birth of a grandchild etc, find themselves interacting with a former spouse.

In the car later we allowed ourselves the pleasure of turning things into a vaudeville routine - similar to the one:

"Thank you!"

"No, Thank you, my good man!"

"Oh, but I insist, Thank You!"

"You're much too kind, sir . It is I who is truly thankful. So, please THANK YOU!" etc., etc.

You get the idea.

Ours went something like this, as we explored our extemporaneous humor genes. We invoked our best S.J. Perelman, as we imagined the possibility of the following conversation taking place in Geckos, a local restaurant:

Friend: "So what's this movie called, that Rendi (the Manager) said you've been raving about?

He: "It's Complicated."

Friend: "I'll bet it is; but surely it can't be that difficult. What's the title?"

She: "It's Complicated"

Friend: " So I heard, but what's it called?"

He: "Like we said, 'It's Complicated."

Friend: (quickly moving to acquaintance status) "Okay, trust me, I got that. But, if you'll let me know what it's called, perhaps I could see it too and sort out the plot for you."

She: "That's okay, we're movie buffs and used to being in the dark; but again,'It's Complicated."

Friend: (who has now become just another customer): "I'm losing patience with you two.Are you suggesting I'm too stupid to be able to figure out the plot and that's why you won't tell me what it's called?"

Wife: " Look, as my husband explained. 'It's Complicated."

(Customer, who we now realize we barely know, leaves quarter tip, exits restaurant in a huff.)

Adds the Wife, "Which is even smaller than a Smart Car."

This is not an unusual routine for the two of us We apparently watched way too much of the Marx Brothers in our youth. We still can't figure out how the elephant got into Groucho's pajamas.

If you think this is bad, you ought to hear the terrible puns when we drive past a herd of cows. It's an utter disgrace.

Should one of our friends, kids or grandkids be riding with us during one of these routines they probably assume we're slightly demented and pray we come to our senses.

Who are we to tell them not to get their hopes up?"

HOW MUCH IS ENOUGH - PART II

Maybe you are among those who believe the NFL owners deserve a larger share of the revenue pie via a re-negotiated labor contract, so they can build more $1.15 billion stadiums.

If so, it may help that logic if you are willing to forget about what comes next: rise in tickets, more expensive seating licenses, and you paying $25 for a medium cup of Pierogies. Sauce is extra.

Being just a little guy in this whole communication stuff, I must admit I wouldn't be sharing your view. My unwavering conclusion is that I believe the NFL and the owners are convinced we fans are "easy prey."

What caused that? The willingness of some fans to spend $200 to stand and watch a game outside a $1.15 billion stadium on a big screen while they pay $19 for a Tex-Mex Margarita and bragging rights?

We are convinced that not only 2 adults, but our 2 kids too, need to experience watching the opening of a wallet as $412. 64 pours out into a NFL owners "povery collection barrel." In Dallas they must have bigger barrels as the cost there for a family of four is $758.58.

NFL Commissioner Goodell says of the Super Bowl, "We put on this event". We beg to differ. We think its the guy paying the $412 and $758 who's footing the Super Bowl bill; instead of teaching his kids the joys of delayed gratification.

Goodells right about one thing, "The NFL takes over the Super Bowl stadium chosen - rent free - and the 32 team owners including the host share equally from ticket sales, concessions, and merchandise.

Could these be the same owners who act like Ali-Babba descendents and claim they're really hurting - while refusing to open their books? So much for, "doing what is in the best interest of the fan."

Charles Dickens is dead and it's unlikely the Commissioner would be too anxious to have to relive his past in the same manner as Scrooge.

There is a sense here that the sensitivity of that W&J college kid/bartender who took a disturbed customer back safely to his home is but a distant memory for the Commish. Trying to get him to reveal what he feels is in the best interest of the fan is a even more distant second.

Speaking of sensitivity, let's again examine that of NFL Executive VP Eric Grubman who had the guts to call Sunday's seating travesty:"an installation issue, and a failure, a shared failure and it's as simple as that."

Who's going to tell him any different? Maybe the LA attorney who just filed the lawsuit on behalf of the ticketbuyers who expected seats?

I've got an idea. Assuming there is a Mrs. Grubman, maybe she could show "Grubby" the error of his ways. Maybe she could explain why it was so important for her to meet with the builders every day when they built their last house in order to make sure they got the right counter tops in their stainless steel kitchen.

"Hey Jerry, next time you build another $1.15 billion stadium, hire a couple Mrs. Grubmans to make sure you get what we're paying for".

Why didn't that happen? To paraphrase the VP, "it wasn't important" And "Grubby", It WAS as SIMPLE AS THAT!

To those guys and gals who are being offered compensation by the NFL for their inconvenience: hold out for a guarantee. God forbid that the future Super Bowl ticket is for a numbered (non-souvenir) folding chair in front of a big screen erected outside the stadium in the frozen north; while you listen to a Sinatra imposter crooning "New York, New York."

Apparently, quality of product and workmanship, as well as careful planning, is too mundane for the NFL to contemplate when their real priority is demanding ,"Where's the money?"

Next time those of you who are fortunate enough to finally find a job and are entrusted to run a big project, you probably don't want to emulate Grubman's wordtrack when asked by the boss, "What went wrong?"

"What went wrong" in todays NFL/Fan environment is that we didn't stand up and say "NO" to disproportionately financing stadiums as well as letting itinerant NFL owners off the hook when, on a whim, they decided they wanted a bigger and more extravagant "house."

If there is a player lockout the only thing that would make it worse is if we agree to go to a half empty stadium and pay to watch a bunch of wannabe scabs give us the performance of a pickup team. We need to show the NFL and the owners we simply will not and cannot take any more.

Oh, and for you guys who are looking for your Congressman to assist; when they panned the crowd in Dallas I think he may have been seated up in the owners box - and he wasn't paying $19 for a margarita.

The margaritas will always be free in the owners box if we continue to insist on "buying a round" for the owners. We could even be charged as an enabler for violating the dram shop act as a "social host".

Cuidado! The owners don't know when they've had enough.

"HOW MUCH IS ENOUGH?" (PART I)

This blogger has ripped the NFL in a few blogs.

It's now good to see others -like The New York Times, Bill Rhoden and the Washington Post's, Sally Jenkins - take a similar approach.

They bashed the seating fiasco in Dallas as well as the bloated Super Bowl to build their case regarding the lack of sensitivity by the NFL management as well as the organizations penchant for distancing themselves from reality.

My own previous NFL gripes were not that complex: I simply asked, "How Much Is Enough?"

As the debut of the NFL films March sitcom "The Owners & Their Money" is about to debut we may well be looking at another lockout.

The 32 owners are now receiving off the top - $1 billion - and, from the bottom, 40% of the remainder; while crying they need more to avoid the poorhouse. And, that doesn't include tax breaks they're receiving from local and state government.

To the average guy or gal the numbers being bounced around are mind boggling - even in a recovering economy. But, when you're a billionaire you really aren't that anxious to remember what it was like when you weren't. That's a big part of the problem.

If you, or someone you know, haven't been able to find a job in a year and a half and are close to foraging for food, nobody could blame you for not choosing to read further. If the economy hasn't already emasculated you; the money, power and greed exercised by the owners and the NFL may do the trick.

Please do not consider me to be a descendent of Socialist Eugene V. Debs. My stand has always been that what's going on here with the NFL clearly isn't right. That opinion seems to be gaining some support from people much better informed than me.

In a recent blog we covered how the NFL threatened to "lock out" Toyota from advertising on NFL broadcasts should they not cease and desist from a suggestion in one of their ads that professional football is a violent and dangerous sport.The NFL official who was quoted claimed the ads put the NFL in an unfair light. Starting to see a pattern here?

That makes absolutely no sense when your Commisioner is saying we need to reduce the violence in the game and Toyota's example was helmet to helmet hits.

Possibly, the official could not recognize the irony of his statement as the type of power he wielded against Toyota (who changed the ad) has corrupted any sanity he may have employed to get the job. Please, read further - he's not alone.

At the recent Super Bowl an estimated 1,250 people were unable to sit in the seats which they thought they had purchased for a considerable amount of money They went to the game without a clue as to the blindside hit awaiting them. Now, comes more sensitivity.

One NFL management member, executive V.P. Eric Grubman offered this as an explanation for the communication and seating gaffe: "The fans who could not be given seats were not contacted sooner because of the 'uncertainty' of the situation." Makes sense to me.

Apparently erroring on the conservative side is now an outdated management strategy and is replaced by the one BP employed, which lead to the massive oil "spill" in the Gulf.

What "uncertainty" was it to which the guy was referring? Well, it's kind of tough to tell. It wasn't made clear by NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell. He was preoccupied by a pre-emptive strike; his lengthy defense that Jerry Jones, the stadium guru, was not to blame.

That act of benevolence could not possibly have anything to do with Mr. Jones being one of the 32 NFL owners who serve as Mr. Goodell's employers, could it?

Only those residing on another planet are unaware that Commissioner Goodell does not represent either the players or you, the fans, in any of the current disputes. He is paid about "$10 mil a year" to represent the 32 NFL team owners - all who are rumored to view him as todays version of a deity. Besides, the ones residing on that other planet are probably watching soccer and couldn't care less.

One rationale by the owners for needing more money is to use it to build more stadiums. The question of "building them at whose eventual expense?" is kind of side stepped. No new stadium has been built since 2006. But, the money keeps rolling in.

Per Sally Jenkins, "The last great building binge in the NFL was from 1995 to 2003, when 21 stadiums were built or refurbished in order to create more 'luxury boxes' at a cost of $6.4 billion. Of that, the public paid $4.4 billion, per Jenkins. She asks,"Why are we giving 32 rich guys that kind of money, just to prey on us at the box office and concessions?"

Jenkins points out that New Jersey, whose deficit is $36 billion, inherited the Meadowlands home of the Giants and the Jets when they upped and moved to their new $1.6 billion, privately financed stadium. She also quotes the Wall Street Journal:"Under the owners old agreement they paid $20 million a year in tax revenues - now, they will pay only $6 million a year

More of "How Much Is Enough" later."

NICE HAT

This morning I wandered into my local Sweetbay grocery store to purchase a USA Today that, for some reason or "tother" - more and more frequently shows up on my driveway, whenever.

I found them tucked in a bin located in front of the first register and one of my favorite cashiers, Mary Ann, another senior.

Normaly M.A. is quick with a smile and a positive comment regarding my often present wide brimmed Panama Jack hat(s).In my old age I seem to be emulating my Dad who also kept a collection of prosthetic legs in the front closet.

This time P.J. was on the shelf at home with his siblings and in it's place atop my receding hairline was a Pittsburgh Steelers golf hat. My reasoning was, "If you were proud to wear it before the game, why hide it now?"(the hat, that is.)

Mary Ann inquired as to how I was doing and my response was "Fine, but probably a lot better if my team had won."

In a sympathetic gesture, she offered, "Well, they played good."

My reply was, "Yeah, but the other team played 'gooder'".

Because of the newpaper delivery foul-up and my greater need for a MacDonald Senior decaf coffee than a review of the online Pittsburgh Post Gazette sports page, there had been no opportunity to see how others viewed the game and it's final result.

When I returned home that was first on my list of things to do.

The reviews by columnists Collier and Cook were not surprising. Their columns suggested that they saw only one team on the field in Dallas, our beloved Steelers, - and they didn't like what they saw.

The fact of the matter was our playing was not abysmal. There were several other adjectives that come to mind - but, this is a family blog.

Actually, we did not play horribly. We just didn't get it done - and the other team did - with a vengeance. Perhaps I'm getting soft but my disappointment isn't nearly as bad as was expected.

It is unclear to me whether or not I've spent too much time with my book on Patience - something I picked up at a local store thinking it was the bawdy autobiography of a British barmaid during the time of King Arthur

"I do but jest, my Lord."

No, the book is appropriately - if not cleverly - called "The Power of Patience" - which come to think of it . . . . . . . Oh, never mind!

One valuable lesson the book has taught me is contained in the sentence: " To live, is in part, to wait." It estimates we spend 11 days a year - in line.

It also points out, "That doesn't count the number of hours in cars and on planes nor wading through electronic voice mail to speak to a real live person." In short, waiting is a normal part of life - like Super Bowl victory anticipation.

Another is, "There is a world of difference between feeling like a failure, and feeling like you have something to learn."

That has something to do with how we resolve to become more patient but are occasionally doomed to failure, when we replicate our past misadventures. Our reaction to our repeated - but less frequent - relapses is important.

To paraphrase the author, MJ Ryan, {the former reaction- above} leads to stuckness and {the latter} to possibility and growth.

The Steelers have made it to the Super Bowl 8 times - and were victorious 6 times. Seems like more of an argument for finding something to celebrate, rather than denigrate.

Of 32 teams, there were only 2 to make it that far. If I could get those odds at the Hard Rock Casino up the road I wouldn't be sitting around on a Monday morning writing these blogs.

Perhaps it would be timely to point out neither of the two competing teams in this year's Super Bowl had a big mouthed coach nor a parlay of this years NFL MVP and NFL Coach of the year. They failed to get the job done too.

While disappointed with the Super Bowl outcome, I choose to see the glass half full.

Now, while I questioned my reaction to the Super Bowl game as possibly a benefit of my readings on Patience - it could also come from being in denial regarding the possibility I've now become somewhat of a rationalizing old fool.

Here again I choose the option of possibility and growth and am anxious to see how the Steelers will acquit themselves with planning, determination, and development when (and if) the 2011 season starts.

Until then, I'm just keeping all of my "Patience" thoughts under my hat.

Go Steelers!

THE SMALLEST STEELER FAN

Like most Steeler fans, I'm looking forward to Sunday's game in Dallas.

But, I'll settle for watching it at a local Irish/English pub with wife and adopted Chihuahua, Bella.

I use the term"adopted" in case she reads this later. She'll do this if I forget to close the office door and turn off the laptop.

The word adopted is also used as you may recall if you've followed this blog for a long time. You may remember the blog where she claimed she was a slave, and demanded reparation as we bought her at the local flea market, The Red Barn.

It's obviously a can of worms I really don't want to open again.

But, that's my curse for us having bought (oops) adopted a Chihuaua who has the power of speech. This occurred when she was struck in the head by a cluster of bottle bush blossums that fell from the back yard tree bearing the same name.

I won't repeat what her first words were.

Anyway, she has turned into one of Bradenton's favorite pets . To more than a few hundred people who frequent animal friendly pubs she's also a big hit.

Folks love to come over to our table and strike up her acquaintance. I like these folks, as - like me- they tend to repeat the same stories over and over again. We've struck up sort of a Bella fan club of our own.

Bella who turns into a erudite 4 year old come May 22 seems to enjoy the company as much as as the fans do. She has a pleasant disposition that amazes most people, and will only bark or growl upon the sight of someone wearing a Patriots cap or an I.C.E tee shirt.

Then she becomes a Tiger instead of a Chihuahua.

Hopefully, there will be no reoccurence of that up at the Pub this Sunday evening.

We find we enjoy watching the Super Bowl with other Steeler fans, particularly when we have an entrant in the contest. Unfortunately, as we are gowing older - our pub attendance with friends will last no longer than the first half - particularly if it's a late afternoon or evening game.

Then we usually retire early to the quiet of our own home and the 52 inch Sony.

Our original plans to watch the game were changed for reasons too complicated to go into here.

I will be watching the game with heightened and mixed emotions as Bella talked me into giving her Green Bay and spotting her 8 POINTS.

What was I thinking?

She may be a small fan - but one who is sneaky quick too.

"EXCEPTIONAL" EXCERPTS

Occasionally, I receive E-mails that have nothing to do with the Pirates, Obama, Sports, Reminiscing or just politics in general.

It seems like more and more the funny E-mails are becoming rare - and that's a shame in my estimation.

Here are some recent "excerpts that -are also exceptions" . I have edited or paraphrased some of them to fit situations to which I can really relate.
-----------------------------------------------------------

Was learning cursive really necessary?

Map Quest needs to start their directions on #5. I'm pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

To the audio/video experts: Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after Blue Ray?I really don't want to have to restart my collection ---- again.

I asked a longtime married guy recently, "To what do you attribute the longevity of your marriage?" . His response was"fitted sheets". (Ask your wife to explain that one. You apparently don't do the laundry).

For all those of you living in a senior community, would you agree obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

I wish that Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.

I think a freezer deserves a light as well.

Shirts get dirty. Underwear get's dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them for ever.

Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.

Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

I decided while attempting to master my new computer with all it's many intricacies that what is really missing is a sarcasm font.

Perhaps part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history when you die.

I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lite than Kay.

How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear or understand a word they said?

Nothing gives me more of a feeling of power and camaraderie than when I'm in an entire line of cars that team up to prevent a jerk from cutting in at the front.

The first testicular guard, the "Cup" was used in Hockey in 1874 and the first helmet was used in 1974. That means it only took 100 years for men to realize that their brain is also important.

Show that to your wife - and you're exceptional too.